


Gregory House (House M.D.) x Reader - My Love

by JaneWeller



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Death, F/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneWeller/pseuds/JaneWeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are about to enter graveyard's gate to say your goodbyes to the person which was very important in your life. It's the hardest thing you have to do in your life. What you don't know is that it will be harder than you expected.</p><p>WARNING!</p><p>If you didn't see the last episode of the 8th season of House M.D. please be aware that this story contains major spoilers from this episode as well as some from of the last few episodes of this tv series.</p><p>I don't want to destroy anyone's expectations for the House M.D. series ending. Yes, it has been over nineteen months since broadcasting the last episode but there may be people who didn't see it yet or they even didn't see this amazing tv series.</p><p>Please, be cautious while considering whether to read this story or not. I don't wanna be a reason of your disappointment. Choose wisely!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Graveyard

****

 

Part 1

          You were standing in front of the graveyards gate. It was wide open so the cars could drive in, but you just stood there, looking at the line that separated the world of living from the world of dead. You clenched your hand, hissing from pain when the thorns of the single red rose, which you held in it, slashed your skin. You didn’t open it, letting this pain to soothe the greater one that made you barely breathe. Your hand was bleeding and small red drops started to fall on the ground. You couldn’t care less right now as you took a deep breath and made a step forward and then another one. Your pace was slow and hesitant. You didn’t want to go there, you didn’t want to see it – the final confirmation that he was gone forever, that you would never see him again, never hear his voice and never see the sparks in his eyes.  
  
          At the same time, you felt this unwanted urge to see the tombstone with his name engraved on it. Something in your mind was telling you that it might bring you the peace you wanted, but your heart claimed that the pain would never fade away, that it would remain for the rest of your life, that would be your most faithful companion, shadowing your existence.  
  
          You stopped by one of the oaks that were growing along the graveyard’s road, leaning your back on the scabrous bark of its trunk. Your chest hurt, making every breath almost unbearably painful. It took you a while to gather yourself up and made your way to the place where his grave was.  
  
          The tombstone was rectangle but the corners were rounded and smooth. Black letters of the engraving were standing out from the gray stone. You made a few steps forward and suddenly your knees gave up on you and you fell on the grass with your free hand pressed tightly to your chest as if it could help you stop the pain you felt from growing bigger. You didn’t realize that you were crying until the first sob let out your mouth. As if it wasn’t agonizing enough, memories flooded your mind, making you to sob even more.  
  
 _You were at House’s memorial service, not wanting to believe that he was gone, not accepting the fact that he died in the fire. You were sitting alone in the last row, trying as hard as you might not to cry, but you couldn’t get rid of the lump that formed in your throat. You listened to others who wanted to say something about House.  
  
_ _“House hired me when no one else would.”  
  
_ _“He got me fired. He gave the guts to get fired.”  
  
_ _“He gave me the courage to quit.”  
  
_ _“Gregory was – he was a good son.”  
  
_ _“He was a trying boyfriend, but I… never stopped loving him.”  
  
_ _“He was my boss. And… my employee. And both times… I learned from him.”  
  
_ _“He made me a better parent, whether he meant to or not.”  
  
_ _“He was willing to kill me. And I’ll always be grateful.”  
  
_ _“He wasn’t always easy to deal with.”  
  
_ _“But somewhere in there… he knew how to love.”  
  
_ _“He was my friend. The thing you have to remember, the thing you can’t forget, is that Gregory House saved lives.”  
  
_ _Lisa Cuddy didn’t show up. She didn’t even call to anyone, not even to House’s mother. You had never liked her; sometimes you showed that openly. Now you hated her for everything she had done to him, for the pain she had caused. You blamed her for his death, because you couldn’t blame him.  
  
_ _You were the last one who went to the front to say something about your late boss. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
_ _“Gregory House was my boss,” you started your voice shaky. “And he was my friend, even if he didn’t see it. I’m glad that I could work with him, that I could-” you went silent, tears stopping you from speaking. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled and you just run away, not wanting them to see your despair.  
  
_ _Nobody knew that you fell for House, that you loved him, that you see through his misery and knew him better than anyone else did. You had never told him about your feelings, always hiding them deep inside your heart. His death ripped your heart into pieces, leaving you broken and unable to move on._  
  
          Six months later, you were on this graveyard to say your goodbyes again, to have your soul shattered again, to be broken one more time.  
  
          “WHY?!” you cried, looking at the tombstone through tears, barely seeing it. “Why are you gone too? Why did you leave me alone? Why didn’t you fight for your life? Why, Wilson, why? You stupid idiot, why?”  
  
          You start to hit the stone, destroying the rose and smearing your blood all over the Wilson’s name engraved on it. You wanted him to feel your pain, even if you knew that’s impossible. You couldn’t even see through tears.  
  
          Then someone showed up by your side, kneeling beside you, taking you into the arms, and holding you tightly pulled to his chest. You didn’t know how long you were crying, calming down with every sob, while his strong hands were caressing your back.  
  
          “Dying is easy, living is hard,” he said and you froze, recognizing his voice.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're surprised to find out who decided to comfort you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bunch of facts you have to know!
> 
> The story takes place six months after the time set in the last episode of House M.D. entitled "Everybody Dies".
> 
> Reader in this story was House's employee for the time that can be covered through the last three or two seasons. Definitely she worked with him through time shown in the last season. That's all you have to know about her for now.
> 
> In the story House has never been married, that's the reason Dominika is not included.
> 
>  
> 
> DISCLAIMER
> 
> I do not own any of the characters from House M.D. series.  
> I do not own Gregory House.  
> Reader owns herself or she could be owned by House but only if she wants to. ;)

 

 

     You felt your heart skipped a beat or even two of them. His voice was so characteristic that he couldn’t be mistaken with anyone else, even if he sounded so terribly broken. Your mind and heart were so confused that you didn’t know what to do - starting to hit him and accusing him of everything bad that had happened to you in the last six months or just to hold him tight and never let go.    

     “Oh my god,” you whispered, slowly pulling away and raising your head so you could see his face. “How?” you asked the only question that you could ask now.    

     “Some hype and switched dental records,” he answered, his voice emotionless when he was looking at the tombstone.    

     You saw that he looked very tired, completely broken, and more alone than ever.    

     “You didn’t ask why,” he noticed when his gaze was back on you.    

     “Because I already know that,” you said quietly, glancing at James’ grave. “You did it for him.”    

     “Why did you come here?”    

     “James’ lawyer sent me his letter. Wilson asked me to come here, to say my good-” your voice trailed off and you pressed not bleeding hand to your mouth to muffle the sobs, your eyes full of tears. It took you a long while to calm down. “I’m sorry. I just cannot… I cannot believe he’s gone,” you whispered and buried your face into Greg’s chest.    

     You knew he wasn’t a type of man who was able to comfort other people so you were very surprised when he held you tight against him, letting you again to wet his shirt with tears. You felt his tears when he placed his head on top of yours. You both lost a very good friend.    

     House liked you even if he had never showed that to you or anyone else. He appreciated your dedication to work, your lack of hesitation to speak your mind, your tendency to be sassy with him, to put him straight when he needed that. That made him to see you differently. You were nothing like the people who were in his team. You weren’t easy to be scared away or intimidated. You remembered about his birthday, Christmas or Easter and always left a gift on his desk with a nice greeting card you made yourself. That was why he let himself to show you what was behind the mask he was wearing so many years that it became his true face.    

     “He told me to come here today,” you spoke again, trying to move away, but Gregory held you too tight, apparently in great need of being comforted himself. “I didn’t know that you were alive. I thought that I lost both of you.”    

     He pulled away after your last words, staring at you as if you were something he put under the microscope.    

     “Why did you reveal yourself to me? You tricked everybody and you could stay dead for the world. Why you decided otherwise?”    

     “Because being alone is miserable.”    

     You blinked in surprise thinking about how he could know that you left Princeton-Plainsboro. Since House’s death you couldn’t stand that place. Everything there reminded you about him. Chase didn’t even change his office much after he became the chief of diagnostic department. He missed House too, in his own ways. You were often sitting in complete silence, thinking about your boss, about the ways he could annoy you, about how great doctor he was, and then one of you blurted with some memory, mostly the funny one and you ended up laughing and feeling a tiny bit better with every day. Though your pain was never meant to be gone. Until this day.    

     You looked at Wilson's tombstone, your blood smeared on it, and the poor rose, lying there all alone and miserable. A shot of pain filled your chest, taking your breath away. Tears threatened to stream down your face and make everything blurry again, but you manage to stop them.    

     “Was he in pain when he was...?” you couldn't finish the question.    

     “No. He was on morphine,” he answered quietly. “He didn't suffer.”    

     “I'm still mad at him that he accepted his fate just like that. But at the same time I understand why he did it,” you said, looking up into House's baby blue eyes. “And I understand why you did what you did.”    

     “Why did you run out in the middle of your speech?” he asked and you gasped in surprise. “What you couldn't say in front of them?”    

     You were terrified right now, your mind spinning and trying to assess how much he could figure out from your behavior during his memorial.    

     “I just hate saying farewells to people I care about. I should be mad at you for what you've done to all of us. You have no idea how hard it was for us to accept the fact that you were dead. But I'm happy that James wasn't alone.”    

     You slowly got on your feet, then you outstretched your hand to House. He usually didn't want anyone's help, but now he accepted yours.    

     “When do you go back to New Jersey?” he asked.    

     “I handed my resignation to Foreman last week. The last six months were too much for me. I-I couldn't stay there anymore. Chase was laughing at me that I was expecting you to show up around the corner telling us that we were just a bunch of morons and idiots. It was too hard to be there with all those memories. I decided that I need a fresh start and then Wilson's lawyer showed up with his letter. I think that this gave me this last reason to quit.”    

     You took a deep breath and raised your hand to wipe away the remaining tears from your cheeks. He grabbed your wrist before you could do that.    

     “It has to be patched up before you get infection,” House said and he made you follow him, still holding your hand.    

     You tried to free yourself from his grip but it was too tight and you failed. The only thing you could do was going with him.    

     You saw his motorbike outside the graveyard's gate. Your car was left on the motel's parking lot. It wasn't too far away from the graveyard so you decided to walk there, knowing that your emotional state wasn't going to allow you to drive a car.    

     Before you knew, House wrapped a clean tissue around your palm and put a helmet on your head. A minute later you were on the road.    

♦ ♦ ♦

     You never believed in fate but staying in the same motel as he did was something more than just a mere coincidence. He dragged you to his room, made you to sit on the chair when he went to the bathroom to get a first aid kit. While he was gone, you took a quick look around, noticing that he had been staying here for some time now.    

     “I didn't know you're masochist,” he said after coming back, holding a white box with a red cross on it.    

     “Excuse me?” You were almost shocked. “I'm not a masochist!”    

     “Then how do you explain the torns in your wounds?” He gave you a crooked smirk.    

     “You're an asshole,” you muttered.    

     “If I was still your boss, I would-”    

     “You would fired me,” you cut him off. “You should remember that you can't intimidate me with your bossy charm.”    

     A hiss of pain left your mouth when he poured some antiseptic on our palm without any warning. You glared at him, but he seemed not to notice that too preoccupied with attending your wound as if it was something life threatening. He was a doctor again.


End file.
